What is Policy?

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints recently released new policies regarding the children of same-sex unions--relationships or marriages, it doesn't seem to matter--with some people providing one point of view and others, well, another.

This has been difficult for me. I already posted my thoughts on marriage equality, so it probably isn't a surprise to anyone reading this that I am more on the side of those who feel this is a deliberate targeting of a minority group. I'm not resigning my membership, turning in my temple recommend, or encouraging anyone else to do so, either (unless they feel that's what they ought to do, in which case, I hope it goes well). Instead, I'm trying to wrap my head around the whole thing.

Why Bother?

I think that's my first question. Why make this policy change in the first place? Same-sex marriage (the most likely impetus for this change) is on the books in other countries--countries where the Church has long been. As a worldwide institution, I don't see the need for it to modify its policies based upon the current events of the United States. 

One could argue that the litigious nature of the United States means that the Church will need to be more firm in its positions than before. A fair point, but one that seems reactive than proactive. That is a "tail wagging the dog" proposition, one that doesn't speak much about leading people, but responding to them instead. And if the Church is open to public opinion dictating policy, why not ask them to change their policies on other things? (Can we get rid of the 1:00-4:00 block, please? Nursery workers the world over would rejoice.)

The Church has been pushing hard against the idea that bigotry girds their responses toward homosexual behavior. So why the retrograde step? The release of the information is not going to be seen as anything other than a codification of anti-gay targeting. The clarification by the Brethren helps to contextualize their thinking, but why it wasn't provided in context in the first place is baffling. 

Who's Next?

There was one moment, one clip of video, that changed my mind on how I viewed the struggle for LGBTQA+ rights. I don't remember where I saw it or what, exactly, the context was, but midway through the twentieth century, a group of gay activists took over a county clerk office. The film clip showed a man answer the phone and say (I'm paraphrasing), "You want to get married? To a woman? Sorry, you can only marry other men today."

The moment shocked me. At first, I was really upset. How could they simply reject someone who wanted to get married? What right did that man have to upend the process? But then I realized that I was hearing what countless people have heard throughout the years: You picked the wrong person to love, the wrong way to love. It's your own fault. Now, there may be some room to discuss what choosing one's sexuality means, but that's not what I'm looking at now. Instead, it's the fundamental injustice of the whole thing.

But what does this have to do with the Church's policy? Well, if a group can be targeted for explicit, different treatment, it automatically creates strata, divisions, tribalism, and disunion. And if a group that I don't identify with (cis-white-male, here) can be targeted, what's to prevent some future policy from targeting me? It could fall under the optional camp (e.g. will my kids no longer be able to be baptized because I voted for Obama?) or the inherent camp (e.g. should my eventual grandkids be barred from baby blessings because their father--my son--has a genetic defect?). If my examples sound absurd, that's because they ought to be, if only on the basis of Article of Faith 2. 

That's what is so strange to me. If parents are willing to let the kid be baptized, what does it matter if the parents aren't living according to gospel teaching? That's the part that I struggle with the most. 

"If inferior, how free?"

Eve, in John Milton's sublime Paradise Lost says this line in Book IX. It raises an important question that I think echoes with why I'm completely unconvinced by legal and policy-based arguments about treating people differently. How can we claim freedom of choice, freedom to choose, when the deck is stacked and a right answer begged? I'm not convinced that any choice represents free choice. Free, in my thinking, requires the chance to make the choice without coercion, but if I'm in a position that is inherently unjust, what options are really being presented?

How is someone supposed to pick between their family and a religion that claims the preeminence of family? This isn't even a matter of legalities (plenty of kids want to get baptized, but until they turn 18, they aren't allowed to; besides, this policy is not accounting for that--indeed, it's set up as the opposite). It's a matter of equality. We believe that God is no respecter of persons, but draw up rules that very much delineate and dismiss them. So what is going on here?

What's Inspiration Good For?

I spent some years as the Elders' Quorum president in my ward. I thought of a lot of things to do to try to help the elders do their home teaching, stay after to put away chairs, and a bevy of other things. You could say that I was "inspired" with any (or none) of the policies, practices, and assignments that I've done, if only because, as an imperfect leader leading imperfect people, God would work through my mistakes...somehow. But actually being there, in the moment, it didn't feel like divinity shaped my ends, rough hew them as I did (see Hamlet 5.2); rather, they were thoughts and beliefs that grew out of me--my purview, my readings, my politics. 

Example: Shakespeare is not the most spiritual of writers, but he speaks to my soul. I would make it a point to bring in a quote from Shakespeare in every lesson I taught. Sometimes it would fit in well--the "quality of mercy" speech from The Merchant of Venice is a great one when discussing forgiveness, justice, mercy, and the Atonement--and sometimes it would be more of a platitude than anything else. However, I don't feel like it detracted from the spirit of the lesson--and sometimes it would add a great deal. The inspiration was an outgrowth of my personality, not a lightning bolt from the blue.

Do some people receive inspiration that way? Yes, I think some do. Most, I daresay, don't. We do the best we can the way we are and rely on God's grace to fill in the gaps. Could a policy be retrograde to God's desire and still end up benefiting people? 

That is certainly a possibility here. Maybe the best intentions of men lead to the best interventions of God. A belief in an all-powerful, omnicompetent God insists that He can take any negative and turn it into a positive. As Milton says, "which God by curse/Created evil, for evil only good..." In other words, evil is the material from which goodness is created. What that means for this policy specifically and the Church's stance on marriage equality generally, of course, could be read in many ways.

Who Makes Mistakes?

The easy answer is, "We've all fallen short of the glory of God." That would include all leadership in all aspects, from my poor presidency up to the top. The best mistakes teach us important lessons and keep us moving toward a better self. The worst mistakes hurt others and cause unnecessary suffering. The flaws we have make us importantly human, a testament to the love of God that He'd care for us despite our flaws. 

So, can the Church make mistakes? Uh, yeah. Our foibles are often benign, I think. But sometimes it can be less so. Consider this: What if a missionary goes out to serve and leaves his girlfriend behind pregnant, telling no one and accepting no responsibility? What if a bishop is guilty of gambling on weekends, then has to distribute fast offering funds to the needy in his ward? What if a Relief Society president spreads vile rumors about her sisters, yet has to decide visiting teaching companionships? 

All of these examples are invented by me and likely true anyway. The point is, the ubiquity of mistakes and inherent flaws of humanity essentially guarantee that our worship won't be perfect, our feelings won't be perfect, and our inspiration won't be perfect. It makes complete sense to me that personal attitudes, long-standing expectations, and personal beliefs can lead to mistakes, even at the highest levels of the Church. I say that because anything other than that belief deifies the leaders, something that they (particularly Elder Holland, I've noticed) resist. Infallibility is one of the great earmarks of the Apostasy--look at how many groups broke off of the Catholic church during the Reformation, in no small part because they disagreed with the idea that the fiat of Rome could overrule everything. Reformers are often looked at, in our tradition, as proto-Mormons, intuiting that all was not well with Catholic tradition. Maybe their instinct on infallibility can be instructive here.

What Does Follow the Prophet Mean?

Here's the easy response to that question: If the president of the Church asked you to disavow the Book of Mormon, would you do it? I'm hoping you would answer no to that (unless you're not a member of the Church, in which case you should read and pray about the Book of Mormon. We're not a perfect Church, but we're trying). I'm more hopeful that you would answer no if he asked you to do any number of things that are contrary to fundamental belief: Kill a person, go commit adultery, steal, kidnap, abuse.

So what does it mean to follow the prophet? Well, for me, the guaranteed things to follow always align with scriptural doctrine. He won't tell you to stop paying tithing, as that's scriptural. He won't tell you to start dishonoring your parents--there are scriptures that contradict that. "But homosexuality is condemned in the Bible!" some may say, and that's certainly the case...along with a lot of other things that, apparently, don't matter as much (hair length, not touching a menstruating woman, marriage as an alternative to burning with lust, and so on). Part of what's great about the Book of Mormon is it helps provide a counterbalance and clarification for biblical hermeneutics. The Book of Mormon doesn't touch homosexuality. At all. Indeed, the worst sin (besides murder and denying the Holy Ghost) is breaking the law of chastity. 

Gay people aren't the only ones who do that. (Incidentally, if a gay couple is allowed to marry, doesn't that mean that they're no longer having sex outside of wedlock anyway?) In fact, there are loads of sins that people commit that don't have legal prohibitions or--more important to the discussion here--demand the children of the sinners to modify their lives as a result. I don't know of a single child who was denied baptism because her father looked at pornography. Now, some kids might not be baptized by a father who looked at pornography, and that's probably fair. But that's what still has me scratching my head about this policy. If the parents gave consent to let the child be baptized...isn't that what matters?

Does following the prophet mean checking your brain at the door? Does it mean embracing a policy that feels hurtful, even if it wasn't designed as such? Does it mean liking what the prophet likes, just because he likes it? Is he guiding us, or helping us to see the love of God in our lives? I follow the prophet: I try to be kind to others. I attend church meetings. I pay tithing. I occasion the temple. I read my scriptures. I pray. All these things--and more--the prophet has helped me to do. 

But I don't agree with any policy that diminishes people--even if it's only through a misunderstanding. As I said at the beginning, I'm not giving up on the Church. I'm not retiring, returning my temple recommend, or anything of the sort.